[mark12_30]

The first day that the children were moved into the fixed-up ruin was one of the most eye-opening adventures of Lindo's life. As the sun set that day, Lindo, rather hoarse and glassy-eyed, rocked one baby in each arm, and gently nudged another with his foot, and decided that he was finally done singing for the day. He had given up trying to figure out which babies were open to Osanwe because he could hardly tell them apart when he looked at all twenty-two at once. (He had to put them in a line to know which ones he had already fed, and if they crawled out of line which they did all day long, he got confused.) So he had been singing softly, out loud. They did seem to respond, a little.

As soon as he and Azra were done feeding all twenty-two of them breakfast, being hobbits, they had wanted second breakfast, and then elevensies. With all of Azra's expert help and occasional rescues from Nitir and Zira, he was only barely staving off utter chaos. It had taken four rounds of wondering why the child in his arms was shrieking for him to catch on the the concept of burping a baby; he had seen it done, but he had been an only child, after all. And while one child each was being burped or fed or changed by Lindo and Azra, twenty others were squirming and crawling and howling.

Azra had chided him mercilessly, laughing, and Kemba had visited briefly and erupted in howls of laughter. But by the end of the day, he could sit crosslegged on the floor and feed one child and burp one more by laying him facedown across his thigh, and if he was lucky, rock or distract a third with his foot. Azra was horrified and indignant about burping a child facedown, but Kemba had told him in between guffaws that it would work, and it did. Azra clearly did not think Kemba had an ounce of child-rearing sense. It did mean, however, that the other nineteen children were free to squirm. He had no solution for that as yet. He dreamed of a large barn, one stall per baby. Horses were so much easier.

Lindo sang, and sang, and sang, more for his own sanity than the children's. After he ran out of lullabyes-- he only knew five-- he started singing other things.

Nitir had come up behind him and whispered rather sharply that she did not think the Lament Of The Kinslaying was particularly appropriate given the circumstances, nor The Lay of The Doom of Mandos either. Nor the Sorrows of the Shipburning. He didn't even ask her about the Griefs of the Grinding Ice. His list of songs was extensive, but apparently not geared for children, although Earendil had always liked his songs just fine.

He returned to the lullabyes. "Don't you know any nursery songs?" Nitir asked. "Well, for horses, " he replied. She snorted. He sang a few of them anyway, but Azra scowled. "Why sing about running free on the green hills when these children can't?" So he gave up on those, and returned to the five lullabyes and sang them again, and again. Fortunately the children did not tire of them.

"Why don't you write some new ones, " Azra said icily, midafternoon. Lindo nodded, already glassy-eyed. It was almost time for dinner, and they had not finished feeding the babies their teatime meal.

How Azra remained calm absolutely baffled him. In truth, she had been uneasy herself as the day unfolded, but she was so pleased that Lindo thought her completely unruffled, she gathered her courage and determination (and a little smugness) until she really was truly at ease.

"Well, I'm glad you are getting better at this, " Azra told him. "At least until Nitir and Zira get a routine going, I'm needed much more with the toddlers and the four and five year olds. Nitir and Zira certainly have their hands full with them, and now that you can feed and burp the babies, at least fairly well, " she allowed doubtfully, "I can't stay here with you much longer."

Lindo's eyes bulged, at he same time picturing himself alone with the twenty-two babies, and imagining the thirty-or forty-something collection of toddlers racing around in constant motion. Suddenly he was grateful that he wasn't assigned to toddlers. He would far rather be in charge of a huge and rebellious herd of wild ponies. At least these children did not crawl very far very fast. Babies were good. Babies were just fine. He would manage.

He sang through the lullabyes again. Azra tried to plug her ears.

[ August 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]